Luyện nghe bài hát The Ballad of Ira Hayes

Gather me people
A I will tell
About a brave Indian lad
You remember well

From a tribe of Pima
A proud and peaceful
They farmed the valley
Out in Arizona

Down their ditches for a thousand
The sparkling water
Till the white man stole their rights
And the water hushed

Iras folks was
fields grew thick with weeds
But when war Ira volunteered
And forgot the mans greed

Call him drunken Ira
He wont answer
Not that whiskey Indian
Or Marine who to war

Well, they battled up Iwo Jima
Two hundred and men
But twenty-seven lived
To walk back again

And the fight was over
And Old proudly raised
the men who held her high
Stood an Indian, Ira

him drunken Ira Hayes
He wont answer
Not that drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war

Well, Ira Hayes returned a
Celebrated the land
He was wined and and honored
Hell, everybody his hand

But he was a Pima Indian
No food, no friend, no
home nobody cared what Ira had did
And when do the Indians

Well, Ira took to drinking
Jail was his home
They to let him raise the flag there
And lower it just like youd throw a dog a

And Ira died drunk early one
All in the land hed fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely
Was the grave for Ira

Call him drunken Ira
He wont answer
Not that drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war

Yeah, him drunken Ira Hayes
But his is still as dry
And his ghost, well, its lying there
In the where Ira died

him drunken Ira Hayes
He wont answer
Not whiskey drinking Indian
Or Marine who to war